


The Catalyst

by Kasen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Costume Party, Drinking, Drunk Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-16 16:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19321804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasen/pseuds/Kasen
Summary: Shiro's roommate Matthew Holt wants his help hosting a couples costume contest within their upcoming Halloween house party. Shiro agrees, and it'snotbecause there's a chance Keith might be attending.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you @hmongperson for your endless patience! I hope you enjoy~

Shiro woke up that morning a little disoriented from having _more_ than eight hours of sleep. The act was unheard of in his current life. Balancing university with work was hell when both the school he attended and the company he worked for were known to be prestigious. Shiro studied hard and he worked hard. He was a golden boy in both, and never took a break in order to hold onto his title. Only recently did his university life seem to calm down. After stubbornly taking classes in the past two summer semesters was Shiro able to lighten his course load and _hopefully_ cruise through his final year of school.  

And with the advice (intervention) of one of his three roommates —Matt, Shiro stopped working irregular hours as well. Only recently did he achieve getting weekends off, which allowed him to catch up on school work if need be, but more importantly, sleep. He felt in control of his life again, minus being thrown off from having _too_ _much_ rest.  

Shiro made his way to the kitchen, his yawn noisy for no reason but to be noisy. He knew his roommate Allura worked early and was out of the house, and the other, Romelle, was most likely still sleeping after coming home late from partying all night. Shiro wasn’t sure if Matt was home, and as he scratched his stomach and peeked around the corner, he found the answer to his question almost immediately. In the kitchen stood a tall figure with dirty blond hair standing in loose black gym shorts and a simple grey t-shirt. Matthew Holt, barefoot and squinting down at a plastic bag near his feet, muttered numbers to himself as he crouched down and began stacking the bottom of the pantry with... 

“Is that wine?" Shiro asked. 

Matt turned at the question and flashed Shiro a cheeky grin as he nodded. “Stocking up for the party.” 

“Uh. What party?” 

Matt had the audacity to sigh and shake his head at Shiro like he had just asked a very stupid question, which according to his roommate, _do_ exist.  

“Don’t give me that look,” Shiro chided.  

“The Halloween party? The one _you_ suggested we do?” 

Shiro blinked. “I... I mentioned that in March.” He observed the large bottles of pop Matt had purchased as well. Each chaser was neatly stacked in a style similar their local grocery store. When Matt was neat, it meant he was serious, which frankly worried Shiro a little.  

“Yes you did. And it’s happening.” 

“It’s mid-September.” 

“This month is going to fly by Shiro. We only have a few weekends to prepare.” 

Matt gave Shiro a look he knew well and dreaded. It was the _I’m roping you into this_ look. 

Shiro raised his left palm, silencing whatever else Matt wanted to say. 

“I get it. Let me have breakfast first,” Shiro mumbled while rubbing his face with his hand. “We can talk after.” 

“It’s already plated for you,” Matt smirked while pointing to the kitchen counter. Shiro gawked at the omelette folded neatly onto a white plate. Matt had even drawn a lopsided happy face using what Shiro had to assume was McDonald’s ketchup packets given their lack of anything practical in their communal fridge. “I thought you’d might like it.” 

Shiro shook his head in wonder. Matt usually cooked a large amount of food for himself so poor Takashi, unable-to-cook-without-something-going-awry Shirogane wouldn’t starve to death. But cooking _exclusively_ for Shiro meant something else entirely.  

Matt wanted a favour.

“After breakfast,” Shiro reminded him.  

“After breakfast,” Matt smiled innocently while pouring coffee into Shiro’s mug. 

Shiro sighed as he sat down. Whatever Matt wanted, it had better not be ridiculous. 

*** 

Matt’s request was doable. He wanted Shiro’s help with the basic chores associated with a college house party, which sure, yeah, Shiro might have had experience in via an incredibly wild first year at university that made his grades plummet and the shock make him go sober for months after as he tried to get his act together. Scarred by the threat of almost being kicked out of school, it took Shiro several months after moving out of his fraternity and enduring a longer commute and higher rent to find himself in control again. Thanks to his now three-year roommate Matthew Holt, Shiro re-learned how to unwind safely and without the risk of losing his job or his place at school.  

And being in charge of a party was way more fun for Shiro than showing up to one already buzzed and becoming shitfaced drunk only an hour in, honestly. He wouldn’t say he liked being in control of others, but he sure enjoyed coming up with a plan and seeing it through to the end. All he had to do was buy some decorations, put them up as he saw fit, maybe guilt Allura and Romelle into helping him with miscellaneous tasks, and boom! Party. People would flood in no matter how shitty their place looked. Not to toot his own horn, but if Shiro mentioned he was having a party at his place, you _went_ to it.  

The part of Matt’s request that had him hesitate was the event he wanted within the event.  

Shiro had attended one college costume party in his life, and he was too wasted to remember most of it. Stupidly confident in his body and uncaring to remain humble, Shiro had attended drunk from pre-gaming and shirtless; claiming his costume was a ‘hot male model’, which nobody seemed to argue. He might have won if there was a competition, but again, that entire night was a drunken blur for Shiro.  

The only reason Shiro agreed to the feat of hosting one, besides Matt promising breakfast indefinitely so long as they were roommates, was because he enjoyed the concept his friend proposed. A couples costume contest. It was easy enough to set up. Just let it be known that the best dressed pair gets a non-specific prize, and the creativity would surface. Some would try, most wouldn’t but claim they did. It would be a mess of poor explanations and even poorer executions. It sounded fun. 

 Shiro knew he’d enjoy himself, even as a co-host, which is why he agreed. 

 _I’ll be sure to make Pidge bring Keith._  

Shiro swallowed remembering the sly comment his friend had nonchalantly slipped into their discussion. 

He definitely agreed to this party for the other, non-Keith related reasons.  


	2. Chapter 2

“Pidge, I’m really not in the mood,” Keith admitted as he twirled his pencil between his fingers, his homework forgotten as his friend interrupted his focus to chat.  

“Aw c’mon, a little party won’t hurt you.” 

Keith sighed and placed his pencil down between the fold of his open textbook. The spine was well worn, the book given to him free of charge by an angel. Keith did his absolute best to keep it in pristine condition, understanding that the owner wouldn’t want it back, but hoping that the attempt would at least grant him a conversation with the other. Maybe. Hopefully. Keith was bad at casual chatter, but something like a quick _thank you_ and a confirmation that his promise to continue keeping what he borrowed in good condition might be something do-able for the socially constipated second-year university student. 

“Pidge, you know what I’m like at parties.”  

“Actually, no I don’t. We went to a total of three thus far.” 

“Three’s a big number,” Keith muttered defensively. Until he started university, he hadn’t gone to any, so his friend should be proud that he managed the few he _had_ when in his first year. _What the fuck_ _do_ _high school students need to unwind from?_ was Keith’s general mentality when struggling through his senior year. And now, struggling through university, he’s starting to wonder how people had time to sleep and study when spending their nights out late and drinking with friends. 

“You can’t keep acting like an old man, Keith. You’re twenty! Live a little!” 

“I want to _keep_ living!” Keith countered. He wasn’t irritated, per se, but he didn’t enjoy always bringing the same reasons to the table when invited to go out.  

“Okay well, this party isn’t going to be like the others. I think you’ll like it.” 

“Doubt it,” Keith huffed. 

Keith’s back was _very_ familiar with getting comfortable leaning against a wall for hours as he sipped whatever non-alcoholic beverage he was able to get his hands on for the night. He wasn’t much to socialize with people he didn’t know, and even in situations where he _did_ feel like chiming in to conversations to kill time, the music was usually blasting in his ears, making it impossible to hear. 

“This is why you should drink, bud.” 

Keith blinked at the sound of a voice that very much wasn’t Pidge’s. His puzzlement prompted her to hold up her phone, where Hunk’s face covered the majority of the device’s screen. 

“Hey Hunk,” Keith uttered in a clearly defeated tone. If more than just Pidge was involved with making Keith attend this party, than Keith knew he was more or less done for. There was no way he was getting out of this unless he faked an injury.  

“Hey man,” Hunk nodded toward Keith. “It won’t be anything like the last party Lance dragged us to,” his friend assured him.  

“Hey!” Lance screamed in the distance. “It was _alright,_ okay? Not my fault Keith can’t unwind.” 

Pidge smiled at Keith, ignoring Lance’s comment as she spoke. “This is Matt we’re talking about. My brother, remember? He’s literally hosting this party so he and his girlfriend have an excuse to dress up in their elaborate cosplays without being judged. We’re going to be surrounded by people like that.” 

Keith rubbed the fatigue from his eyes as he considered his friend’s words. Pidge knew Keith well to reassure him using her brother’s personality as bait. Matt was just like Pidge, which luckily translated to just like Keith as well. He was smart and frankly didn’t interact with people outside of his comfort zone besides for the sake of being polite. Matt stuck to people who shared the same interests as him. His friends were the type to be rowdy around each other but otherwise respectful. They were clever and shared similar witty humor. Keith trusted that friends of Matt would be similar. Even if it was a house party; even if he was surrounded by people he didn’t know, maybe he’d have fun. There was a theme. There would be interesting costumes to look at and things to discuss.  

And maybe Shiro would be there. 

Maybe. 

“Fine,” Keith croaked, head ducked low to hide his growing blush. “I’ll go. But no costume.” 

The last thing he caught Pidge do before thanking Keith for agreeing to come and leaving him alone for the rest of the afternoon, was exchange a look with her device —brow raised to Hunk, who said nothing in return. Keith tried not to dwell on that sight. Surely his friends would respect his wishes. 

*** 

Keith’s sneakers squeaked loudly as his friends very literally dragged him into the costume shop. His rubber soles dragged along the white tiles of the polished floor noisily, the pop-up shop’s early morning silence disturbed by the obnoxious sound.  

“Dude, pick up your feet,” Lance hissed as he pushed Keith from behind. 

“Yeah Keith, stop acting like a kid about to get a flu shot,” Pidge added, both her hands wrapped around Keith’s forearm.  

“There’s _no reason_ why you guys had to trick me into coming here,” Keith spat while struggling to get out of his friend’s clutches. He spun free from the two right into Hunk’s chest. 

“It’s a costume party,” Hunk sighed. Despite being a gentle-giant, giant he was. With little effort, Hunk grasped Keith’s shoulders and spun him around. Keith gracefully twisted in place, his shoes squeaking as he was forced to face the place of his nightmares. “You can’t go looking like yourself—” 

“—As terrifying as that is,” Lance chimed in. 

Keith shot his friend a glare, his scowl remaining glued to his face as he scanned the tacky decorations on display. 

“We’re getting costumes,” Hunk concluded.  

Keith huffed in retaliation. Why did it matter what he looked like? He hated the thought of spending money on something he’d use for only a few hours at most. Thirty or so dollars could go towards something else; something _meaningful._ They were all university students, and sure, dealing with loans and bills was a mutual struggle among all of them; and Keith would never bring up finances and privileges with his friends, but damn. They had a family to rely on. If they were tight on money for a month, they had parents or siblings they could call. 

Keith didn’t have that. 

Asking friends for money was something he refused to do. It was one of his strict, personal rules. He didn’t want to owe anyone anything, even the select few he trusted. And he _refused_ to accept their charity. If someone spotted him for food or a coffee, he made sure to do the same back.  

Keith didn’t have much, but he had his pride. 

He trudged behind his friends as they started scouring the aisles for Halloween costumes of their own. Every so often, they pointed out something for Keith, but he simply pretended to consider it and promise to go back to it if he found nothing else; a lie, but it kept them out of his hair.  

By the time they completed their rounds, Lance, Pidge, and Hunk each had something for themselves. Keith played off his empty hands with a nonchalant shrug. 

“I saw some things I liked. I’m gonna try a few other places first,” he promised. Though skeptical, his friends accepted his words and left it at that. The four had lunch at the mall food court, and soon went their separate ways for the evening; Pidge returning to school to continue her studies while Lance and Hunk made their way to work. Keith kicked aside the pieces of broken gravel near the entrance of his apartment before stepping into the lobby. He considered the elevator for a moment, rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes and turned back around.  

_Stupid costume party,_ Keith grumbled internally as he stomped down the sidewalk. Though beautiful, the sunset did little to lighten Keith’s mood as he turned towards the large Walmart parking lot. Maybe... maybe he’d find something cheap here. At least bits and pieces of _something_ he could piece together and bullshit. 

He hated that he didn’t want to risk looking bad in front of Shiro. 

He hated how much he liked Shiro.

Keith’s ears burned as he silently corrected himself. If there was one person he couldn’t lie to, it was himself. He didn’t _hate_ how much he liked Shiro. It just... scared him —and Keith hated being scared. After spending years and years building himself a tough exterior, knowing the feeling of being frightened and despising it, he couldn’t help trying to fight the feeling now.  

Sighing heavily, Keith entered the Walmart and made a beeline for the bright orange and deep purples acting as a beacon in the far corner of the store. He wasted no time picking out costumes he could picture himself looking half-decent in. The prices were much cheaper here, but nothing called out to Keith.  

Holding a firefighter costume, Keith flipped the bagged outfit in his hand and observed the back carefully.  

“Hose, hat, and truck not included,” he read out loud.

“Well, is there really a point if there’s no truck?” A voice said. 

Keith froze at the familiar, friendly tone. 

“Shiro?” He squawked in dismay. _Are you fucking kidding me?_ The _one guy_ he was hoping to blissfully avoid until the dreaded night two weeks from now stood beside him, smile as beautiful and easy-going as ever. 

“Hey,” Shiro grinned, straight white teeth prominent behind his pink, bow lips. 

_Stop staring at his lips!_  

“What’re you doing here?” Keith asked in a pitch higher than he preferred. 

Shiro let out a heavy sigh. The kind that made Keith want to rub his back and tell him to let it all out. 

“Same reason as you, probably.” 

“A Holt is forcing you to dress up?” 

Shiro barked out a genuine laugh. “Yeah. Spot on,” he grinned, the heavy sigh he let out before nowhere to be detected on his handsome features. “Matt’s here too... somewhere.” 

“Pidge told me Matt was making you help,” Keith commented casually. “Didn’t take you as the type to like partying.” 

“I’ve definitely grown out of that phase. But a party every now and then isn’t too bad,” Shiro mentioned. “God, if you saw me in first year you’d...” Shiro shook his head. He busied himself with a costume; eyes downcast and thumb slightly stretching the plastic to read the costume’s description. 

“I’d what?” 

Shiro turned to him, his smile a little bittersweet at whatever memories he harboured. “You wouldn’t look at me the same.” 

“What, hardcore drugs?” 

_“No,_ Keith! Nonono, I never—” Shiro stammered. “Never drugs. _Fuck_ that.” He whispered the curse word as a self-censor, which made Keith fight the urge to bring his hand to his chest and violently clutch his heart. Shiro was beyond adorable.  

“Alcohol though...” 

Keith scoffed at that. “Everyone goes a little crazy with booze in their first few parties, Shiro. Nothing to be ashamed of.” That being said, Keith had gotten wasted at his first party and decided _never again_ after that, so he could understand if Shiro felt the same. 

Shiro shook his head, strained smile on his face. “I was in a fraternity.”  

Keith lost it at that. The imagery made the firefighter costume slip from his fingers. Shiro caught it before it hit the floor, and handed it back to Keith in one smooth motion; as if Keith needed any more reason to be head-over-heels with the guy.  

“Show me,” Keith whispered. 

“Uh. Show you how?” 

“You _must_ have pictures somewhere. C’mon Shiro,” Keith laughed at the other’s mortified expression. “Show me!” 

“Absolutely not. There’s nothing to see.” His ears were scarlet as he spoke. 

“Beer pong champ?”  

Silence. 

“Keg stand connoisseur?”  

More silence.  

“Were you the body shot bitch?” 

Shiro’s head dropped at that.  

Keith laughed in delight at guessing correctly. 

“God, what was it like?” 

“The amount of tongues that touched my belly...” he croaked between a forced laugh. 

“Wish I was one of them,” Keith said without thinking. 

Shiro’s head snapped up at that.  

_Why did you say that_ _out loud_ _?!_ Keith thought, mortified. 

“I mean...” Keith trailed off. He had no follow up. 

Fuck. 

“Did you find anything?” Matt said, appearing out of nowhere. Keith didn’t care. Thank fucking god.  

“Still looking,” Shiro squeaked, wide eyes still glued to Keith.  

“Keith!” Matt hollered in excitement after spotting him hidden behind Shiro’s broad torso. “Whatsup buddy?” he grinned while wrapping an arm around Keith’s shoulder. “Looking for a costume?” 

Keith nodded, thanking every deity in existence for the escape from Shiro’s gaze as their mutual friend walked and talked with him down the aisle.

“Yeah. Still not sold on anything though.” 

“Why don’t you partner up with someone? You know there’s a contest for the best couples costume.” 

Keith scoffed. Pidge had made a similar proposal —nothing romantic of course— but she suggested doing something either together or with another friend to _"sweep that damned prize right from under Matt’s nose”._ It was definitely tempting. Knowing Matt set up the contest for the sole reason that he was under the impression that he and his girlfriend would be the winner made the competitive side of Keith burn. He knew Matt long enough to know how much fun it was to tease him when things didn’t go as he planned. 

But... 

Keith snuck a glance at Shiro, who seemed to finally forget (or set aside) their earlier conversation in favour or scanning the costumes. 

Keith didn’t want to do a “couples costume” with anyone in fear of giving Shiro the wrong idea. He was a step beyond infatuated with the other. The fear of creating a misunderstanding, as minor as it might have been, was out of the question for Keith. He wouldn’t dare risk it. 

“Matt, you know I’m single,” Keith commented evenly. He made sure to look at Matt as he said this; not Shiro. Wouldn’t want the other knowing how badly he was pining for him. 

_That’d work if you didn’t just admit how you want to drag your tongue up his abs._  

“Fuck it,” Matt shrugged. “Just phone a friend.” 

And then Matt turned to Shiro. Keith felt the blood drain from his face. 

_Oh no._  

*** 

_Oh no._  

Shiro shot his friend a warning glare. _Don’t you_ _dare, Matt._  

Matt dared. 

“Shiro's single too. Why don’t you two go together?” 


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro gripped the steering wheel with vigor. He was seething. It took him approximately three minutes of gritting his teeth and breathing heavily through his nose before finding his voice. 

“Are you _crazy?”_ Shiro hissed at Matt. His eyes were forward, focused on the road, but he hoped his voice carried the weight of his anger. 

“I don’t understand why you’re freaking out,” Matt pouted from the passenger seat. “You two are friends, aren’t you? It was just a suggestion.” 

Shiro shook his head but kept to himself. He hadn’t ever truly told Matt how bad he was at relationships. He met Matt after stumbling out of his post-breakup coping phase via his fraternity. His roommate only knew him as recovering from excessive partying and trying to get his grades back up; not that he was getting over a long-term relationship with someone he was certain he was going to be with for the rest of his life. 

Matt might have known that Shiro tried dating in that time in between, but his friend hadn’t witnessed the ways it failed. He hadn’t seen the awkwardness, the lack of chemistry, and the flat out lack of appeal. Shiro inwardly cringed at his rude behaviour to the poor fools who had the misfortune of calling themselves his “date” at the time. They didn’t deserve to face the amount of walls he had put up, but he couldn’t help but close himself off. His breakup with Adam had turned Shiro defensive. He was protective of his heart. He couldn’t bear to lose anyone else after becoming close.  

“I’m sorry,” Matt said quietly. “I don’t really know what runs through that head of yours,” he admitted. “I just know you like Keith enough to open up to him —way faster than you did with me, might I add.” 

If Shiro could remove his hand from the steering wheel to rub his face, he would, but he didn’t trust his ability to flawlessly use his new prosthetic quite yet —not while driving at least. 

“No,” Shiro cut in. “It’s okay. Sorry for snapping at you...” 

Matt nodded, gaze on the plaza to his right. The walls of the old stores were on fire with the rays of sunset casting a beautiful bright orange on the bricks. Shiro wish he could admire them longer, but he dragged his gaze back to the road ahead. 

When Matt didn’t say anything else, Shiro sighed heavily. 

“I only _“opened up”_ to Keith so quickly because he was your friend first, you know that right?”  

Shiro noticed Matt perk up in his seat, and continued.  

“I trust your judgement. You have good friends, so I guess by default I trusted Keith because you and Pidge did too.” 

“So? Do you like him?” 

_Right to the point, huh?_ Shiro smiled in a way he was certain made him look constipated. 

Shiro tended to ignore that question on what felt like a daily basis, even when it was his own thoughts that surfaced them. 

“No, not like that. He’s just—” 

Shiro caught Matt turning his head to face him.  

“I can really relate to him,” Shiro croaked, catching a glimpse of Matt’s unconvinced expression. 

“I know how hard it is without a family. I just want to make sure he’s okay. As a friend.” 

“No Shiro. Pidge, Hunk and Lance make sure he’s okay, _as_ _a friend_. They chill with him at malls and go out for drinks and play video games with him until 2am on a school night. They study together and eat together and share whatever they have that Keith can use without feeling guilty, you know?” 

“I know,” Shiro squawked. 

“But _you—”_  

_God, here it comes._  

"You _“lend_ _”_ him your textbooks?” 

“What’s wrong with that? You just said Pidge and the other’s share their things with him too."

“You leave your receipts on the kitchen counter, Shiro. I know our stupid school’s bookstore logo when I see it. Plus, they change the editions on our textbooks literally every year. How would you have what he needs almost four years later?” 

“Your point?” 

He knew the point Matt was going to make, and prayed that for once in their lifetime a Holt would be wrong in their hypothesis.  

"I know you buy Keith new things,” he confessed softly. 

Shiro pulled into their driveway without a word. He couldn’t deny it, which wouldn’t sound so bad if it weren’t for the fact that he would not only buy things for Keith, a guy he met only a year ago, but he'd intentionally _use_ those items so the other would believe that it truly belonged to him first. Textbooks, jackets and sweaters that Shiro had “grown out of”, a laptop... 

“Not having money and too much pride to ask for help is a dangerous combo," Shiro explained. 

“But why should you care how a guy you barely know is fairing in this cruel world?” 

“Matt, you like Keith too. Why can’t it be platonic for me the way it is for you?"

“Shiro, you take him out on long walks and spill your soul to him—” 

“—You don’t know that,” Shiro countered pathetically. Matt definitely knew. Even if Keith didn’t say anything, Pidge was too smart for her own good, and whatever she inferred from observing Keith most definitely went straight to her big brother. 

“Oh, I _kno_ _w._ You two went _stargazing_ once."

“We just happened to bump into each other on campus at night... and look up.” 

“You snuck onto the school’s roof and stayed there for hours.” 

_Pidge knew too much._   

“Shiro, we went over to their place on Pidge’s birthday and you tucked his hair behind his ear all lovingly—"

“You saw that?” Shiro hissed. _Damn._ He thought no one was around to witness his semi-drunk and blissfully-content ass get too handsy with Keith. It was the first and last time he let himself get that close, however. He didn’t dare touch Keith again, not unless it was in his dreams. 

_Fuck._  

"Alright,  _fine!"_ Shiro caved. “I like him! I like him a lot. It’s a little scary how quickly I fell for him, okay? That’s why I don’t want to rush into things. We still barely call each other friends without it being awkward.” 

“It’s _awkward_ because you two obviously _like_ each other and are too terrified to make a move, so you do this weird dance around each other!” Matt said while his hands hovered close to each other in a jagged and jarring way —like two of the same ends of a magnet fighting repulsion through brute force and failing. 

Shiro wanted to slam his forehead against the steering wheel of his car. Unfortunately, it was old and worn and the airbag would likely to burst open if he dare test it’s durability.  

“Let me take it slow with Keith. _Please_ Matt.” 

“Okay, okay!” Matt promised, palms raised in surrender. “I won’t butt in,” he said while opening the door and swinging his legs outside. “And for the record, I made that costume suggestion to be nice. You two wouldn’t come close to beating me and Natalie anyways.” 

Shiro watched his friend step out of the vehicle and tap the trunk impatiently. Shiro clicked open the door, frustrated at himself for letting his friend get him so worked up. 

In everything Matt ever said or did, it came from a logical standpoint. If he suggested Keith and Shiro partner up for the costume contest, even as friends, it wouldn’t deter their relationship. 

Maybe Shiro should listen to Matt and respect his intelligence. 

Or maybe...  

Maybe Shiro was a competitive nut with some salt for his friend, who squeezed the truth out of him in such an unceremonious way. 

Fueled by both his trust in Matt’s judgement and his pettiness to win against his friend in retaliation for being played like a fiddle, Shiro steeled himself to make a very scary text. 


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey_  

_I know we both danced around Matt’s question, but if you want to partner up, I’m down._  

Keith stared at the text until his eyes went dry. He blinked rapidly after a moment, no longer able to withstand the blue light blinding him within the darkness of his room. 

Was Shiro for real?  

Or was this some sort of light-hearted joke to break the awkwardness caused between them?  

Keith clicked his tongue in irritation for doubting Shiro’s sincerity. He let his phone fall onto his chest with a dull thump, the light glowing from the edges where it lay flat over his navy-blue shirt.  

The two did exactly as Shiro described when Matt asked them to go to the party together; as friends dressed as a couple no less. They stuttered and laughed awkwardly and Keith said he still wasn’t sold on wearing a costume in the first place while Shiro admitted that he’d probably be too busy hosting the party to participate in the contest —excuse upon excuse thrown at Matt’s general direction until the other dropped the topic entirely in favour of filling his shopping cart with tacky decorations a few aisles down.  

They danced around Matt’s question, sure, but it still hung heavy in the air between them when they were left alone to contemplate his suggestion.  

“Sorry,” Shiro said almost immediately. “He wanted this stupid costume contest so bad. I think he’s just making sure he and Natalie aren’t the only ones participating.” 

Keith huffed and shook his head at that. “It’s fine,” he promised despite his burning ears. “But... yeah. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know if I’d be wearing a costume in the first place...” He was fine with making a costume of sorts, but then he would either come off looking lazy or cheap, two things he had grown to hate hearing about himself. 

“Hey,” Shiro said quietly. “I get it, trust me.” 

Keith nodded, eyes returning to the selection of costumes propped in front of him. Nothing truly called out to him, and honestly, the more he thought about it, the more a waste of money it seemed to him.  

“You know, I have a few old costumes I could lend you if anything,” Shiro added. “I’m not going to wear them again, since our friends have already seen me in them...” 

Keith smiled kindly at Shiro. Despite rarely interacting, whenever the two did run into each other, Shiro always offered Keith help in some sort of way. When simple walks turned into personal conversations, when Shiro learned more and more about Keith, he gave so much to him while asking for nothing in return. Keith appreciated how much the other connected with him. As tragic as it was, their unfortunate pasts made it easier for the two to open up to each other. Nobody in Keith’s current life knew as much about him as Shiro did —strange as it may seem given their limited contact. 

“I’ll think about it,” Keith nodded while stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Thanks Shiro. I’ll let you know if I can’t find anything.” 

Shiro smiled, as charming as ever, and breathed _“_ _good”_ in response to Keith’s promise. Keith fought the shiver running down his spine —fighting harder against the hammering of his heart at how pleased Shiro seemed at the prospect of doting on him once more. 

Keith sighed in real time, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hands and wondering how many times he was going to replay his encounter with Shiro that evening. He was hoping sleep would pull him away from his problems for at least a few hours, but his brain had other plans. Instead, his mind decided to recall every time Shiro was kind to him. It reminded him of each conversation they had and each time he jumped at the opportunity to provide something for Keith when Keith admitted he couldn’t do so himself. Keith’s eyes fluttered, his gaze falling on his laptop placed carefully on his desk. _Shiro’s laptop._ One he claimed didn’t work for him because it was too slow for his liking, and privy to viruses, yet ran like it was brand new as far as Keith was concerned —showcasing none of the things Shiro complained about when shoving the device and charger into Keith’s hands one day when dropping Pidge home after visiting Matt one evening. 

Keith clutched the phone closer to his heart at the memory. Brain working in overdrive, Keith closed his eyes as he recalled the one night the two spent staring at the stars on the roof of their school’s engineering building. The night was extremely significant to Keith. It was the night Shiro empathized with Keith on a level he never expected.  

It was a spur of the moment meeting. The two ran into each other on campus, one finishing his summer night class while the other finished his shift at the campus coffee shop. They walked side-by-side, going in the same direction towards the local bus stop. The conversation was casual at first. _How are_ _you_ 's and _long time no see'_ s were exchanged. _Why are you here so late? Which bus are you taking?_ It was when Keith caught Shiro’s gaze glued to the stars in the sky that he offered to show him one of his favourite star-gazing spots on campus. He assumed Shiro would kindly decline the offer, emphasizing that he was exhausted and would prefer going home, but instead the other’s eyes lit up at the suggestion.

Slightly puzzled yet pleased, heart hammering and palms clammy from nervousness, Keith took Shiro to a spot that looked over their small town and distant constellations. It was there that Keith mumbled about being tired —not just from the long day. As the two lay on the hard cement of the school’s roof, Shiro hummed solemnly, saying he knew what Keith was going through. Keith scoffed, shaking his head.  

“You have no idea.” 

“Keith... trust me. I do.” 

It was there that Shiro admitted knowing the financial difficulties associated with attending their university without parents or immediate family to rely on. He knew the fear of loans; of watching interest pile up on an amount you couldn't even fathom earning let alone owing back. To constantly think about having a roof over your head, a full fridge, a basic means of living... it was a lot for your average twenty-year-old; even more so when these struggles were shackled to you since childhood. And with that, he knew the terror of coming off poor and cheap in a society that acted rich. Where having cell phones and laptops was the standard for students attending post-secondary school. Having a closet with a range of clothes, one that constantly needed to be updated less someone point out if you owned anything else —it was a humiliating experience to endure. Being invited out and realizing that every purchase burned a devastating hole in your wallet; yet inflicting such torment to yourself in order to save face.  

Shiro knew all about it. 

And if Keith didn’t fall for him right there, he’d be lying to himself. 

And in that surge of affection for the other, unrelenting and genuinely overwhelming, Keith texted Shiro back and buried his phone under his pillow, using his willpower to fight the urge to check until sleep graciously took over his body. 


	5. Chapter 5

_Sure_

_But ur in charge of coming up with the costume_  

Shiro punched the air in victory at the response, momentarily forgetting that he had asked Keith because he had convinced himself that he was being competitive against Matt and trusting that this was a completely platonic interaction —not that his crush agreed to be his date to a party.

Quickly, Shiro cleared his throat, settled down, and lay back onto his bed. Feeling ecstatic and harbouring a goofy grin, he replied with _"Cool! I’ll brainstorm and text you later. Goodnight :)"_ and proceeded to stay up until two in the morning searching potential couples costumes for himself and Keith, certain he was living a fevered dream.

***

Shiro found himself too busy corralling people into his home to stress about Keith. Dressed as a Paladin —the character he picked in almost every MMORPG game he ever laid his hands on, and information he’d take with him to his grave— Shiro adjusted his crown, fixed the hem of his chainmail, and directed his friends to the kitchen for refreshments. It was still early in the evening, which meant only the people they knew well would show up on time to hang out before strangers joined and the mood of the party shifted.

Until then, Shiro tried to lay low. He had done everything he needed to do to keep his part of the bargain with Matt, and his friend seemed more than satisfied with the result. The place looked outstandingly tacky inside and out. Shiro took what he learned from his past and applied it now, hoping his pain in setting everything up at least brought pleasure to others. Along with their cheap decorations, Shiro and his roommates carved pumpkins, set up drinking games in their kitchen and dining room, and a couple outside as well. Folding tables sat in their backyard with red cups and ping pong balls resting idly by, and there was a large beer keg set outside as well, simply because a keg stand is what some people came to do at parties, to Shiro’s knowledge.  

It was in that same breath of knowledge that Shiro and Matt invited classmates they knew to be competitive. Every challenge presented made for a fun event at the party, which both understood would grow old and boring with only drinks and music as the entertainment. Hell, even the costume contest was supposed to be a very subtle showing compared to the beer pong and flip cup tournaments.

“Shiro!” Matt called out with a wave. “Nat’s here! Take our pic?”

“Sure,” Shiro smiled as he walked towards the corner wall of their living room sectioned off from the “dance floor” with nothing more than a strategic move of their couch. Matt and Natalie wrapped their arms around each other’s waists and smiled at the camera, both looking particularly attractive as two androids suffering human-inflicted battle wounds from fighting for their autonomy —Natalie’s idea and execution. Shiro grinned as the polaroid slid out of the camera, and he brought it over to the bulletin board hung over the door of their bathroom. It was the only place the four roommates agreed would get the most traffic considering that you had to walk by it to enter the living room or kitchen, and consequently would have a line waiting outside of it for the better part of the night. Using a Sharpie Shiro securely tied (duct taped) to a string attached to the bulletin board, he wrote the couples name at the top of the polaroid and the words _Vote_ and _Tally_ at the bottom. The system was flawed it every way imaginable, and Shiro was certain Matt would spend a better part of his night monitoring the board instead of participating in his own party to make sure people didn’t slash an abysmal amount of votes for a single couple; but to each their own.  

Things fell into place relatively quickly much to Shiro’s relief. More people showed up, several more couples took their pictures immediately before the booze and sweat ruined their look, and the games commenced. Shiro tried not tap his foot impatiently as he eyed the front door. His roommates Allura and Romelle were at the front lines, vetting people at the doorway who looked sketchy —or quite frankly, already wasted— from coming in. As great as pre-gaming was on their wallets, Shiro and Matt would rather people finish the alcohol they provided then come in and be a terror so early in the night.

“Wondering where your plus one is?” Matt asked over the blaring music.  

Shiro hissed at him to shut up, and realized that he couldn’t hear himself over the base.

“Are they taking the car?” Shiro asked instead, changing the topic. “We can’t let them leave if they’re all drinking.”

Matt nodded in agreement. “They’re probably taking the bus, but I’ll let them know they can crash here.” He gestured to the living room, which would most likely be in horrendous condition by the end of the night. “Though I’m sure you’ll offer Keith your clean bed instead of the couch,” he added with a sly grin, reading Shiro’s mind.

Shiro punched his friend in the arm, cutting him off. As if summoned by hearing his name alone, Keith appeared with his friends at the front door, looking in every way like he belonged in a castle. Shiro’s head spun at the sight of the other in the costume he ordered for him. Keith’s white tunic cinched at his waist, accentuating his shoulders while emphasizing the slight curve of his hips. The loose long sleeves drew Shiro’s eyes to the middle of Keith’s palms, where his long, boyish fingers stuck out handsomely. No —cutely. Shiro was certain if the other paused to tuck his hair behind his ear, his knees would grow weak at the sight. The look was almost identical to the time Keith wore one of the hoodies Shiro “lent” him —the oversized sleeves hiding his fingers less he brought his hand up to his adjust his fringe or scratch his cheek; a sight Shiro had permanently etched into his brain.

Keith wore black slacks and loafers beneath, and Shiro concluded that the other’s pants were not nearly as loose as they should have been to hide his attractively long legs.  

_Fuck,_ Shiro thought in despair. It was such a simple look, but it shook him to his core. The most elaborate part of Keith’s costume, aside from the golden crown settled over his dark brown locks of shoulder length hair —the likes of which were slicked back to better fit the costume’s aesthetic— was his coat. Keith didn’t bother wearing his coat the way it was intended. The burgundy, velvet suit jacket rested over his shoulders with the golden embroidery hugging the collar and trailing down the line of the lapel and towards the golden buttons and button holes on either side of the blazer. Keith wore his coat like a cape, and upon further inspection, Shiro realized that Keith had even hidden a sword beneath the jacket. Shiro’s eyes fell on the gold hilt barely showing itself in the darkness of his home. If it weren’t for Keith’s left hand resting over the hilt sheathed onto his belt, he would have never noticed it.

“You look amazing,” Shiro said in wonder.

He blinked, realizing that in his awe at Keith’s appearance, he had strode past everyone and everything in his home to stand directly in front of the other.

“Th-thanks,” Keith sputtered, eyes wide at Shiro’s sudden appearance and compliment.  

It took Shiro everything in his power not to bow to Keith. As in-character as it might have been, Shiro knew it’d be over for him if he sunk on one knee in front of Keith.  

“This place looks so different,” Pidge commented as she squeezed between Keith and Shiro. “I barely recognize it.”

“It’s full of people too,” Hunk added. “I didn’t think Matt had so many friends.”

“Okay, okay,” Shiro laughed as he gestured the others to follow him to the kitchen. “Have fun you guys. Try not to think about the fact that half of your TA’s are here. Watching you.”

Lance and Hunk froze mid-gulp of the punch they had grabbed from the kitchen counter. The two burst into a stream of questions targeted at Shiro, all of which he left unanswered with a bemused grin.

“Know your limit,” is all he said with a smirk. And then Shiro grabbed Keith by his wrist and led him back into the living room.  

“I’ve been to house parties before, but Hunk is right... this place is packed.”

Shiro shrugged as he positioned Keith against the white wall at the corner of the living room after asking a classmate to take their picture. The couch had been pushed back almost an entire meter as more people congregated to dance and mingle in the open space. It was tight between them, but Shiro couldn’t find it in himself to feel bashful. Keith had broken something in him.

His self-restraint.

***  

Shiro knew Keith was competitive by nature. The fact that he had gotten this far in life alone, with every obstacle that presented itself to him, was proof in itself how unwavering Keith’s passion was. If Keith set his mind to something, Shiro was certain very little would stop him from accomplishing his goals.

It was why, to his amusement —and slight horror— that Shiro found himself following and eventually joining Keith in the competitive drinking games. He had initially watched his matching-costume-companion get baited into playing Flip Cup against his friend Lance. Keith stood opposite of Lance, the two throwing lame insults at each other as other people joined the ranks and set the cups with drinks of everyone’s choosing. Shiro would lie if he said he wasn’t impressed by Keith’s dexterity. Everything he did seemed precise; even down to the gulps of rum and lemonade mixture he swallowed before flipping his cup with the perfect amount of force to land face-down.

When Keith’s eyes shone with excitement at obtaining the game-winning flip for his team, his high-five with Shiro resulting in their fingers intertwining, something tugged at Shiro’s heartstrings. As if Keith had lassoed him, Shiro found himself dragging his feet beside Keith. Flashing Hunk an apologetic grin, Shiro asked if he could step in, and was presented with a clean cup and a range of alcoholic beverages to choose from.

Shiro never expected himself to fall down this rabbit hole again, not after all the grief it had caused him in the past.

But this time it felt so incredibly different.

This time he had Matt and his new friends, his true friends, not once pressuring him into anything. This time he had Keith by his side, taking the games slow and steady, sharing the space with other people rather than insisting on constantly taking part. There was no intensity to this party. Just people in weird costumes screaming over loud music at who sucked more at Beer Pong, team knock-off Power Rangers or the Prince and Princess.

Wait.

“Princess?!” Shiro cried in horror. “I’m obviously a Paladin!”

“But you have such an adorable little crown,” Shiro’s roommate commented. Shiro frowned at Allura. How dare she try to embarrass him in front of his Keith.  

Not his Keith —why did he think that? He meant his date.

No —not date.

His costume contest partner... person...

_Shit,_ Shiro hissed in his head, the contents of which were swirling like a washing machine on overdrive. Shiro’s thoughts were all over the place. He was balancing Allura’s comment, the fact that Keith had hugged him mere seconds ago after sinking a ping pong ball straight into the second last opposing cup, and the fact that his head was swirling in the first place from all the beer he inhaled to protect Keith’s liver.

He couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to get drunk.

Shiro _knew_ he was getting more and more touchy and affectionate with Keith, and yet he couldn’t stop himself.

“It’s not a princess crown,” Shiro replied, finally finding his focus to respond to Allura’s comment.

“You seem very offended Shiro. Is there something wrong with being a Princess?” Allura asked. Shiro, distracted by the question, did not notice Allura bouncing her ping pong ball across the table and straight into their last cup. Keith placed his hand on Shiro’s abdomen as he lurched forward in a desperate attempt to finger the ball out of the cup, but the ball didn’t budge. It was too late.  

They had lost.

“Sorry,” Shiro mumbled to Keith while squeezing his shoulder.  

“It’s okay,” Keith chuckled as he straightened up and stepped aside so the spectators could reset the table for the next team. He took off his crown to adjust his hair to its usual look, his heavy fringe falling softly over his forehead. “That Allura is scary accurate.”

“She is,” Shiro agreed with a sigh. He made the mistake of closing his eyes as he did, and felt himself swaying as he stepped towards Keith. Keith caught his arm, smile gentle as he held Shiro steady.

“Sorry,” Shiro mumbled bashfully. “I think I’m calling it quits with drinking for tonight.”

Keith nodded, eyes twinkling with what Shiro could only interpret as affection. Without thinking, he leaned forward and pecked his cheek, grateful that the lights in the backyard shone only on the Beer Pong table. Shiro was certain his cheeks were as scarlet as the solo cups in everyone’s hands.

He pulled away from Keith as quickly as he leaned in, surprised at his own actions. What surprised Shiro more was when Keith closed the gap between them to return Shiro’s chaste kiss with one of his own.

_Whoa,_ was all Shiro could think while gazing at the other’s bashful expression. _He kissed me back._

Shiro reached out to hold Keith’s hand in his own, heart hammering when Keith squeezed it tightly.  

“You really do look like a princess,” Keith commented after a moment. His lopsided grin had returned, which made Shiro realize that Keith was a little drunk too. _“My_ princess,” he mumbled with a satisfied smile. Okay, so maybe he was more drunk than Shiro gave him credit for.  

“I’m okay with that,” he responded just as quietly.  

Keith laughed and shook his head. “I’m joking,” he mentioned while squeezing Shiro’s hand. “You were made to be a paladin.”

Shiro grinned proudly at the comment. “It’s my favourite class to play in most video games,” he mentioned dumbly. So much for taking that to the grave with him.

“You mean Maplestory?”

Shiro flushed at the spot-on prediction.  

“Tell no one,” he croaked. Even though the class was weak and died more often than the others, Shiro couldn’t help but want to play the character with the most honorable and loyal backstory.  

Keith leaned forward to press his lips against Shiro’s cheeks once more, and hovered rather than moving away.

“I promise to keep it a secret. It’s the least I can do for you,” Keith whispered. Shiro could feel Keith’s smile against his searing skin. “Thanks for always looking after me,” he added. The shift in topic made Shiro perk up. His mind was muddled with the close proximity and second kiss, but he forced himself to focus on the other’s words.

“You’ve spent so much on me... both time and money.”

Shiro sputtered his rebuttal, and was cut off with a peck on his lips.

“I know you buy me things,” Keith explained softly. He kissed Shiro’s lips again, stopping any coherent thoughts he had left. “I know the difference between well-kempt and new.”

Shiro broke at that, face burying itself against Keith’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry for lying,” he croaked sheepishly. “I know you wouldn’t accept them otherwise.”

“It’s okay,” Keith reassured him with a gentle pat on his back, his other hand still holding Shiro’s tightly. “I like it... when you spoil me.” Keith’s voice was muffled as he spoke near Shiro’s ear, lips now pressed against Shiro’s hair. “It feels nice.”

With all the kisses Keith was peppering Shiro with, Shiro finally gathered enough of his senses to provide his own. He kissed Keith’s shoulder several times before tilting his head to kiss the crook of his neck. Keith stiffened for a second, unaccustomed to the sensation, before melting against Shiro.

“I don’t want you to think I did it with any ulterior motives.” Shiro had now worked his way up to kissing Keith’s jaw. The skin was smooth and hot to the touch, and made Shiro’s blood rush through his veins like electricity. Without realizing it, he had pressed Keith against the wall of his home, the other’s smaller frame fitting perfectly with his. “I know how hard it is dealing with what you’re going through. I wanted you to know that you weren’t alone, and that you’d always have someone to help you. I just had no idea... how bad... I’d fall for you...”

Shiro’s sentences were broken by Keith’s persistent kisses. Whatever coherent thoughts he had left were successfully destroyed by Keith.

Keith took whatever self-control Shiro had left and crushed it between his lips. He pulled Shiro’s breath away with every kitten lick, his tongue drawing small moans from Shiro as it lapped the inside of his mouth. Shiro barely registered parting his lips wider for Keith. He barely discerned pressing his tongue against the other’s, looking to taste him, cheap alcohol and all. Shiro melted against Keith. He shamelessly pressed his thigh between the other’s legs and felt arousal grow at the pit of his stomach when Keith groaned against his mouth and started grinding against his thigh.

_“Fuck,_ Keith.” Shiro could barely get the words out of his mouth. Keith was all over him. The other’s hands glided along his chest, his shoulders, along his biceps and down his back. It was all so much, but not nearly enough.

“Shiro...”

Shiro pulled himself away, if only a fraction, to look at the other.

“You look beautiful,” Shiro blurted, truly mesmerized by the man he had sandwiched between himself and the wall. The porch lights cast a dim ray over Keith’s side profile, highlighting his drunken glow and flushed cheeks. His lips shone from kissing Shiro, and he licked his swollen lips as if sensing Shiro’s gaze. Inclined to please Keith, Shiro kissed him again, chaste and innocent compared to seconds ago. When he pulled away again, Keith’s expression seemed stuck between embarrassed and needy.  

“What do you want, baby?” Shiro murmured lovingly, his hand cupping Keith’s cheek as he spoke. He stroked the burning skin, pleased by the way Keith’s full lashes fluttered in what Shiro could only describe as arousal.

“You,” Keith whispered.

“You have me.”

They kissed again, this time with urgency. Their costumes, though inevitably bridging their way into this very moment, also presented itself as their biggest obstacle for the night.

“Tell me what you want Keith,” Shiro repeated hoarsely. He felt his own arousal crawling under his skin like an unpleasant itch he couldn’t reach.

"Whatever you want,” Keith answered. “Whatever makes you feel good.”

Shiro’s knees grew weak at the confession. Suddenly, the only thought that occupied his brain was falling to his knees and pointedly sucking Keith dry.

“Okay,” Shiro nodded. He couldn’t believe how raspy his voice sounded when his throat had yet to take the beating he so resolutely wanted.  

“But—”

Shiro froze, knees in a comical half-bend as he waited for Keith to continue. His prince pulled him up by his deltoids —smile wobbly and sheepish.

“Can we go somewhere more private?”

“Huh? … _Oh...”_ Shiro looked to his side to see a few from the crowd watching the current Beer Pong game making and immediately breaking eye contact with him.

If possible, Shiro flushed even more.

“Wouldn’t want an audience,” he agreed. And then, as if having done it a thousand times in the past, Shiro reached around Keith, pulled him close, and lifted him off the floor in three easy movements.

“Who’s the princess now?” Shiro remarked proudly at Allura, who only shook her head while covering her bemused grin with her hand as Shiro carried Keith in his arms and pushed through the crowd to get back into his house.


	6. Chapter 6

Getting upstairs was a blur for Keith. In one second he and Shiro were competing in yet another drinking game —having fun in each other’s company; laughing, cheering, hugging— and in the next, they were grinding against each other while making out. Keith barely registered Shiro’s confession as he hungrily kissed him, drunken to the point of losing what little restraint he had left. A very tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that drinking to the point of no return would result in him making a move that would single-handedly destroy their barely-established friendship, while a louder, more outgoing part of Keith screamed _Who cares?! He’s kissing you back!_

And it was in that moment that Keith decided to ride his gut-feeling to the end. It was all the confirmation he needed to know that Shiro’s thoughts mirrored his own when the paladin whisked him away from the backyard and up the stairs two steps at a time. Shiro ignored the obvious looks and chatter they elicited as he pushed past the crowd with Keith in his arms, and entered his bedroom in record time.

He barely locked the door behind him before Keith tackled him with a flurry of kisses. Never in Keith’s wildest dreams would he had pictured this moment. Having Shiro pinned against his bedroom door and smiling against Keith’s lips would forever be imprinted in his brain as one of his happiest of memories.  

“Didn’t you want more?” Shiro eventually asked when they pulled away to catch their breath.  

Keith nodded rapidly, not trusting himself to speak. His mind whirled when he felt Shiro play with his belt. Keith carefully helped Shiro when the other struggled to unbuckle it. Keith held the belt steady as Shiro continued to fumble with the metal. Neither were sober enough to coordinate much alone. When the belt came undone, Keith sighed with relief. There was a tightness between his legs that he hadn’t truly noticed until Shiro unbuttoned his slacks and unzipped the fly.  

“Wow,” Shiro grinned as he palmed Keith’s boner. “Kissing got you riled up?”

Keith flushed. He knew Shiro was experienced in the realm of sex, sure, but hearing him alluding to the fact made Keith’s body shudder in anticipation. For what it was worth, Shiro did a good job remaining relatively in control of himself —even now, while under the influence of alcohol. He met Keith where he was at, which to Keith’s frustration, wasn’t much.

And that fueled Keith’s hunger.

“Yeah,” Keith answered. There was no hiding how hard Shiro made him with just a few sloppy kisses. “Now hurry up.”

Shiro’s lips curled into a smile, and he traced Keith’s neck with a barrage of kisses while continuing to palm him. Keith bucked against his hand, chasing the pleasure. God, he wanted so much from Shiro, and yet this fraction of a moment between them felt like everything he ever needed.

“You said... I can do... what makes me feel good,” Shiro said between more sloppy kisses on his neck. Keith bit back a groan as Shiro sunk his teeth into his skin. The pain was instantly replaced with a lap of his tongue, followed by a provocative kiss.  

The act went straight to Keith’s dick, and he knew Shiro felt his member twitch against his palm.

 _“Fuck_ Keith, let me taste you,” he croaked.

And then Shiro was sinking to his knees.

Keith let his pants fall to his ankles and realized that the view was almost perfect.

It just needed some small adjustments.

“Take off your clothes,” Keith demanded. Too much of Shiro was covered by his costume.  

“Yessir,” Shiro muttered while doing exactly as Keith requested. Keith reached down and helped Shiro pull the chainmail and tunic off his body. He wanted Shiro’s pants off too, but Shiro swatted him away.

“Later,” he promised before repositioning Keith against the wall. Grateful, Keith rested his back against the sturdy surface and placed each hand carefully on Shiro’s shoulders as the other began running his mouth over the outline of his cock beneath his tented boxers.

Keith immediately withered at the sensation. Shiro didn’t give him time to recover as he repeated the action one more time before pulling down his boxers all together; which now joined his pants sitting at his ankles.

Shiro dragged his tongue between Keith’s slit and swallowed back the bead of precum that had formed at the tip, tasting him. Keith gasped, overwhelmed by how sudden Shiro attacked him. Keith swallowed back a moan as Shiro licked the tip of his cock again, unrelenting despite this being their first time intimate together.

Keith loved it.

Shiro did not hold back. He dragged his tongue from the base of Keith’s member up to the head, his wet tongue pressing against a protruding vein and causing Keith to fold over himself in ecstasy. Shiro kissed the head while grasping the base, holding Keith steady as he swallowed as much of Keith’s erection as he could.  

“Oh fuck,” Keith squeaked. Shiro’s mouth was hot and slick. His tongue twirled around his cock, touching his sensitive skin and causing his nerves to spark with the buildup of his impending orgasm. Keith’s hips instinctively rolled towards Shiro, wanting to go deeper. Shiro moaned happily around his cock, and Keith shuddered beneath him once again —almost violently.  

It was a good sign. The moans meant that Shiro was enjoying himself, which almost in itself made Keith climax.

Keith lost himself to the sensation of receiving head. Mind muddled with arousal and alcohol, Keith combed his fingers through Shiro’s platinum white hair and held on for dear life. He wasn’t sure how many minutes passed as Shiro set a steady rhythm that matched the shallow canting of Keith's restless hips. All he could do was close his eyes, moan in bliss, and ride Shiro’s mouth until his stomach twisted in a familiar bought of pressure. Too far gone to say anything other than Shiro’s name, Keith stilled as he reached climax, his seed hitting the back of Shiro’s throat.

Shiro barely reacted to the ropes of cum spurting between his parted lips. He pulled away only when Keith’s dick softened in his mouth, sucked dry and boneless where it lay on his tongue.

“Shit,” Keith hissed. His knees caved almost immediately when released from Shiro’s strong hold. He sank against the wall in front of Shiro, spent and dizzy from his orgasm. Wanting to return the favour, Keith barely convinced himself to move. Kissing Shiro on the cheek, Keith forced himself to stand, and holding Shiro’s hand, guided him up as well and towards his bed.  

When the two lay down together, exhaustion hit Keith like a ton of bricks. He was wired mere moments ago, but the second Shiro wrapped an arm around him and rolled him onto the mattress, he felt his lids turn heavy and his whirling thoughts become muted. Keith sighed heavily, content his with back against Shiro’s exposed chest. Part of him knew he should be returning the favour to Shiro, and yet Shiro seemed perfectly content with what they had done, and didn’t ask for more. Instead, he happily rubbed his slight stubble against Keith’s cheek and occasionally pecked the irritated skin with little kisses.

It was a small act of affection, but the implications made Keith’s stomach flip and his eyes sting. Electing to abruptly halt the tears beginning to form, Keith closed his eyes and melted against Shiro.  

***

Keith woke up with a piercing headache. It felt as though someone had speared through his skull and straight into his brain with a fork—

No.

A trident.

Keith groaned as he rubbed his eyes; putting pressure on the sockets using the palm of his hands in hopes of relieving the throbbing pain.

_This is why I don’t drink._

He regretted letting his friends talk him into letting loose and matching everyone’s pace at the party. Before going to Matt and Shiro’s home, Pidge specifically told Keith not to be a wall-hugger like usual. _“Don’t make Shiro baby you throughout the night. He won’t have fun if he sees you being anti-social!”_

Keith groaned again after attempting to open his eyes. The sun shone bright in the bedroom, blinding him and adding to the headache. Opting to sleep the pain away, Keith rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into his pillow.  

Despite his discomfort —despite his mouth feeling like cotton and his tongue harbouring an unpleasant taste that tickled the back of his throat, Keith didn’t regret what he did. He was able to have fun with his friends and strangers alike, and even had a chance to bond with Shiro.  

Keith smiled against the pillow. _Shiro,_ he thought pleasantly. Keith got to see Shiro’s competitive side. He got to hear the other argue with his friends and have fun poked at him by his classmates. For what it was worth —although Keith was primarily exposed to Shiro’s responsible, kind, and giving side— it was extremely satisfying seeing the other show another side of him. Knowing Shiro was the type to sport a very deep, scarlet flush when consuming alcohol; knowing he swore when on the losing team; knowing he got touchy when Keith smiled at him...

Keith’s smile froze on his face.

Didn’t Shiro kiss him at one point?

Didn’t he push him against a wall and...

Keith opened his eyes and blinked at the bedroom door. It wasn’t his door. That was the door Shiro pressed him against after carrying him upstairs. That was the door Shiro knelt in front of, on his knees, as he wrapped his mouth around Keith’s —

Keith shot up from the bed and swung his legs over the mattress. He blinked against the dizziness, and scanned the bedroom; realizing it was Shiro’s room, not his, and that it was Shiro-less.  

“Shiro?” Keith automatically called out. There was no response.

Keith groaned and rubbed his head. _God,_ he felt like shit. He probably looked like shit too. Keith paused, realizing he was wearing his underwear, but no pants. Had Shiro pulled them back over him some time after he passed out? Or had he done it that morning when he got up? Keith felt himself growing more and more flustered as his sober brain caught up with what drunk him did the night before. Keith scanned the room until he found his black slacks neatly folded on Shiro’s desk chair. He put them on as quickly as his hungover-self was capable of doing and did a quick check at the full-body mirror Shiro had at the corner of his room. Keith dug the gunk out of the corner of his eyes and combed his hair with his fingers. He didn’t bother tucking his shirt into his pants or reclaiming the toy sword that had detached from his belt. Instead, Keith braced himself against the door as if he were about to enter a battlefield, and after a long pause to reassure himself that everything between him and Shiro was not _totally ruined_ by their mutually drunken horniness, he turned the doorknob and stepped into the small hallway.  

The first thing Keith noticed was that of the four other doors in the hall, only one was open. Keith tentatively walked towards it and peaked inside to find that it was the bathroom. Relived, he stepped inside only to find Shiro’s back to him as he was hard at work scrubbing the corner of the bathtub.

“Shiro?”

Shiro jumped and turned, and his face instantly lit up to a sweet smile.

“Hey! Sorry, uh. Give me a sec, I’m almost done with this,” he added while gesturing to the tub with a grimace.  

Keith glanced over Shiro’s shoulder right as the other turned on the faucet and washed down what Keith could only assume was puke.

“Are you alright?” Keith asked, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Shiro laughed. “It wasn’t mine,” he reassured Keith. “—Probably Matt’s though... those chunks looked awfully like the dip he made last night.”

“Nice,” Keith grimaced.

“Yeah,” Shiro nodded. “If I told my past self that college students spend a good part of their university career becoming familiar with their roommates’ puke, I’d call myself a liar.”

“To be fair, I have yet to experience that, so maybe it’s just a you thing.”

“Wonderful,” Shiro said with a scrunch of his nose. He threw the wash cloth he was using in the trash bin and pulled out the bag, tying it with practiced dexterity using his biological and prosthetic hands.  

"While I throw this out and clean up a bit downstairs, do you want to freshen up? That extra toothbrush is for you.”

Keith followed his gaze and observed the red toothbrush sitting in its package next to a well-used tube of toothpaste. Keith noticed a neatly folded pile of clothes and a towel on the counter as well, and cocked an eyebrow at Shiro in silent puzzlement.

“If you want to shower...” Shiro explained. “You don’t have to, you smell nice. I mean, you don’t smell bad—” Shiro clamped his jaw shut and tried again. “Anyways, take your time freshening up. Use whatever you want in here,” he added while nodding to the shampoo and soap at the corner of the bathtub. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

And with that, Shiro fled the bathroom to give Keith some privacy.

***

Keith took his time showering. After peeing and brushing his teeth to rid himself of the horrendous after-taste that had settled in the back of his mouth, he stepped into the tub, turned on the showerhead, and closed his eyes as he let his body soak in the warm water. He tried not to overthink his current situation, which was hard given that he always did his best thinking in the shower. Rather than letting the sense of dread churning in the pit of his stomach cause him to paint the corner of the bathtub Shiro has just cleaned with even more puke, Keith focused on the positives.  

Shiro smiled at him. That was good, right? _But Shiro smiles at everyone._

Keith shook his wet mane and tried again. He accommodated for him. He brought him clean clothes and a toothbrush without being prompted to do so!  

_But Shiro would probably do that with anyone; he’s just being a good host._

Keith frowned at himself. _He literally sucked your dick the night before; stop questioning things._

So he did. Keith finished his shower and focused on his hunger and headache instead. He stepped out and dried himself off with the towel placed on the counter top before stepping into the clean clothes Shiro provided. Keith immediately notice several things that made the blood rush to opposite ends of his body as he dressed himself. When Keith stepped into what he assumed was a clean if not new pair of boxer-briefs, it didn’t occur to him that it belonged to Shiro until he felt the difference in... size, between his legs. His own boxer-briefs were always nice and tight on him —they were form fitting. But Shiro’s left a little room between his legs; enough for it to be noticeable. Enough for his imagination to go haywire.

The rest of the lent clothes didn’t fare any better. Keith’s sweatpants were comically loose on him, to where he looked like a genie, and would have fallen to his ankles had not it been for the draw string pulled tightly around his waist. The t-shirt Shiro gave Keith made him realize just how much larger the other was in comparison. His shirts always looked tight on him, but on Keith it could be rivalled for a dress with the way it swooped over his mid-thighs and fell over one shoulder.

Needing fresh air to combat his searing face, Keith didn’t bother waiting for the condensation to dissipate from the bathroom mirror to fix his hair. He knew it well enough to style with just his fingers, and after a quick towel-dry and some messy combing, Keith stepped out of the bathroom ready to face reality.

Reality was far closer than Keith expected.

“Oh, hey! You’re done.”

“Yeah, uh. Thanks —and sorry, I didn’t know where to put my clothes so I left them near the hamper.”

“That’s fine —hey listen,” Shiro mentioned, seeming distracted as he glanced at Keith’s exposed shoulder. Keith self-consciously adjusted the t-shirt and nodded for the other to continue. “It’s still pretty messy down there, and I tried to clean quietly since Pidge and your other friends are asleep in the living room.”

“They’re still here?” Keith hissed. Shiro nodded and Keith clicked his tongue. He thought by some miracle Hunk would have ushered Pidge and Lance out without any of them questioning why Keith stayed back. In retrospect, it was wishful thinking, but still.

“Sorry,” Keith apologized. “I’ll kick us out. Do you have a bag for my clothes? I’ll take them home and wash the ones you lent me too—”

Keith stopped short when Shiro’s lips crashed into his. The kiss ended as abruptly as it started; Shiro backed away, apologetic grin plastered across his handsome features despite the red tinting his cheeks.

“Sorry, you were just too cute.”

Keith’s heart palpitated at the statement.

“Also, I needed you to stop talking for a sec.” Shiro moved in for another kiss. It was gentle compared to the last, but made Keith’s lips tingle just the same. Shiro’s kisses were electrifying. “No one’s trying to kick you guys out. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with them seeing you like —like _this.”_

“Like what?”

Where Shiro’s face was dusted pink before, it was now completely beet red.

“Like you’re mine,” Shiro whispered.

Goosebumps instantly covered Keith’s arms. He could imagine how it would look to his friends dressed head to toe in oversized clothes instead of his costume while following Shiro down the stairs after enjoying a restful night on a clean bed and spending a morning to himself to shower and freshen up. He would definitely, without a doubt, look like he received special treatment from Shiro. Almost like how a boyfriend would...

“Can I be?” Keith blurted.

“Hm?” Shiro’s voice was shrill at this point. It would have been comical had Keith not felt like he had just bet all his money on a fixed slot machine. He could understand why Shiro was surprised at his question; but frankly, at the pace they were moving, Keith wasn’t doing or saying anything catastrophic in his opinion.  

“Can I be yours? Can we date? I’d rather own the fact that we did something last night instead of beating around the bush. I think we’ve done enough of that already...” Keith trailed off, losing his confidence.  

 _You just kissed me twice so you better not say no,_ he thought with mild panic.

Shiro kissed Keith a third time that morning.  

And then a fourth.  

His light pecks turned deeper when Keith tilted his head to the side and parted his lips for Shiro. They kissed for some time after that. The sound of their wet lips smashing together felt deafening in the silence of Shiro’s residence, and Keith savoured every second of it. He savoured every sound, every taste and touch... His heart felt full as it beat strongly against Shiro’s chest. He held the other’s face between his palms as he pursued his tongue. He let his fingers trace the other’s jawline down to his neck, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep and the side of his waist. Keith explored Shiro’s body the way he wished he could have done the night before. The other was warm to the touch through his clothes. Shiro radiated heat and gentleness and strong, firm muscle. Keith’s inner monologue was failing him without a thesaurus. All he could do to express his appreciation was kiss Shiro until the other got sick of it —because Keith could sure as hell keep going all until the sun set again.

And a while did pass before Shiro regained his self-control and pulled away from Keith. His smile was giddy and his grasp on Keith’s arm was firm. He looked like he didn’t want to pull apart for even a second, and Keith wholeheartedly understood that feeling —and to some extent, he was relieved that the feeling was mutual.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Shiro asked. “I know we haven’t really dated, but we’ve spent enough time with each other —I think— to warrant that we can see this going somewhere?”

Keith nodded, not trusting himself to speak and melting into Shiro’s embrace. He closed his eyes and inhaled Shiro’s scent, familiarizing himself with what would soon be his norm.

“Alright, let’s head down and grab some food. We can tell the others when they wake up.”

Keith nodded again and held Shiro’s hand. The other’s palm was larger than his, and warm. Shiro held Keith firmly while guiding him downstairs, over the piles of garbage brushed aside near the guest bathroom, around the living room where Pidge and Hunk lay comfortably on the couch, dead to the world with their excessive snoring, while Lance was asleep sitting up on the loveseat in the corner of the room.

“Okay, I have a confession to make,” Shiro whispered while wiping down the counter he had presumably cleared of discarded cups, empty bottles and cans while Keith was in the shower. “I can’t really cook.”

Keith huffed at the declaration.  

“Not even eggs?”

“Sure, if you like scrambled. With shell. Slightly burnt on one side and with extra black pepper—”

Shiro sounded like he had just ordered an elaborate drink at Starbucks. Keith laughed and hastily muffled the sound with his hand while shaking his head.

“Alright, maybe we’ll pass on Chef Shiro’s finest for today.”  

“I’ll torture you with my cooking eventually.”

“Looking forward to it,” Keith grinned. He truly was.

***

Keith and Shiro spent the better part of that morning making breakfast for their roommates. It wasn’t until Shiro brewed a fresh pot of coffee _“The one thing I can expertly make”,_ that their friends started waking up and peeking their heads into the kitchen.  

Breakfast rolled into lunch as everyone slowly gathered themselves. Pidge and Lance seemed to have it the worst, both silent and miserable as they chewed on their bacon and guzzled down their cups of water. Matt’s teasing was as relentless as you would guess coming from an older brother —all the while providing Pidge with the medicine and reassurance she needed to feel comforted by the fact that her migraine wasn’t life threatening.  

Keith was a little puzzled that no one brought up the elephant in the room. Every time he thought the topic would come up —every time Lance scrutinized his borrowed shirt or Hunk eyeballed the lingering touches Shiro often left on Keith’s shoulder or thigh as they ate and chatted on their side of the dining room table, Keith was met with silence instead. Keith exchanged a confused glance with Shiro when even Matt had nothing to say after the two very obviously flirted while clearing the table for their friends, uncertain if it would be better to leave things as is or bring it up on their own.

“Should we just tell them?" Keith whispered to Shiro when they pulled away from the others to wash a few of the dishes.  

“I guess? Honestly, I’m surprised Matt hasn’t said anything. He’s usually the type... especially with us...” It was nice knowing Shiro was as equally baffled by everyone’s behaviour. It was also nice knowing Shiro liked him enough that his friend noticed and teased him for it. It made Keith feel a little less ridiculous for pining for Shiro just as bad while staying just as distant.  

“Should we do a formal, we’re together, type of announcement?” Shiro asked.

“We don’t have to make it sound like we’re expecting a child, but yeah.”

Shiro snorted and bumped Keith’s arm with his elbow. “Let’s get it over with while we have everyone together.”

“Now?” Keith croaked. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else as Shiro shut the running water, grabbed Keith’s shoulder and twisted him around. Keith had no choice but to step forward as Shiro’s strong palm rested on the small of his back, pushing him towards the small group of friends.

“Hey guys, we wanted to tell you something.”

Maybe two out of seven people looked up, intrigued. Shiro’s roommates Allura and Romelle were not those people —being the last to get up, neither cared to pay Shiro any mind as they shovelled eggs and toast down their gullets. Hunk and Matt’s girlfriend Natalie kindly asked Shiro to continue, while the rest exchanged looks.  

Keith felt his ears grow mildly warm as Shiro announced that they were seeing each other.  

His face, on the other hand, seared as if touched by the sun itself when Lance screamed “You mean you _weren’t before?!”_

“God Lance, are you serious?” Pidge cringed. “And stop yelling.”

“Man, why do you think we kept trying to get Keith to go out with us when Shiro was around? What kind of guy needed to be forced by his friends to go out with his boyfriend?” Hunk asked, visibly appalled by Lance’s lack of intuition revolving Keith's situation.  

“Because he’s _always_ stuck up about going out?”

“Are you dumb?” Hunk snapped. Wow. Keith liked hungover-Hunk. “—I’m sorry. You're not dumb.”

“The dumb one’s here are these two,” Pidge interrupted while pointing her fork at Shiro and Keith. “It’s about time you two officially got together.”

“Officially?” Keith asked.

“Everyone knew you were together except you two,” Matt explained while looking at his roommate.

“Wh—” Shiro replied intelligently.  

 _“Everyone.”_ Matt emphasized. As if on cue, Romelle and Allura nodded in unison, not once looking up from their food. Even his girlfriend flashed Shiro and Keith an apologetic grin.

“You two are very sweet to one another. In the few times I saw you two together—”

“It was _obvious!”_ Matt cried, finishing Natalie’s sentence.

“Whatever,” Keith mumbled in response after noticing that Shiro had shut off. “Well now we’re together and now we all know, so you guys don’t have to... uh... _worry_ anymore.” Help was the better word here, but Keith refused to acknowledge that he and Shiro wouldn’t be together right now had it not been for their friends intervening.

“Well, it was fun while it lasted,” Pidge shrugged.  

And then she handed her brother a twenty-dollar bill.

Keith’s mouth dropped as Hunk did the same.  

“You _bet_ on us getting together?”

“To be fair, my dear friend-in-law, it wasn’t on you two getting together—”

“That was inevitable,” Pidge chipped in.

“—it was _who_ would be the catalyst to help it happen.”

“Cata... lyst...” Shiro croaked.

“I always switch my shifts with you when I know Shiro’s on campus. Since he’s my TA, I know his schedule.” Hunk explained with an apologetic grin. “He likes his coffee more when you make it.”

A weird noise escaped the back of Shiro’s throat, but no words came out.

“I tried using my birthday to get you guys to confess to each other —that’s why there was so much booze,” Pidge smirked. She wiggled her eyebrows at Keith and continued. “It’s also why I didn’t want to do a dinner or whatever out in the city like you suggested. In case you needed to use your bedroom...”

“I need to sit down,” Shiro mumbled weakly.

Keith remained frozen to his spot as Shiro sunk into the dining chair in front of him.

“And _I_ requested a costume party with the help of Mister Shirogane as my event planner. And not just _any_ costume party. It was a —say it with me— a _couples_ costume party, yes.”

“No one said it with you.”

“This little pigeon is upset she lost,” Matt responded in stride while roughly pinching her cheek.

“That explains why you were so pushy at the Walmart,” Keith said.

“Pushy! I thought we had a rule against being pushy,” Hunk chastised.  

“I wasn’t pushy! These two were dancing around asking each other out while simultaneously doing it with their eyes. It was beyond frustrating; so I dropped the question for them.” Matt even raised his palms as if to prove his innocence in the matter. “Everything else was on you two.”

Keith glanced at Shiro. The other’s neck was tomato red, as were his ears. Keith wanted to kiss the burning skin. After spending a second to process everything, Shiro sighed and turned to look over his shoulder at Keith.

“Guess we were the only ones out of the loop,” Shiro said with a small smile.  

“That’s an understatement. You should see the board,” Matt chirped happily.

“Board?” the new couple asked simultaneously. Matt trotted out and back into the kitchen in the blink of an eye, returning with the bulletin board that had been nailed to the bathroom door.

“This,” he said while showing the board.

It was utterly vandalized by the black sharpie. Keith moved closer to observe the contents, and realized that what he initially thought to be nonsensical scribbles was actually a tally. A very _big tally._ There were quite a few polaroid pictures pinned to the board, and everyone had a few strikes here and there; but then there was Shiro and Keith’s. Their tally bled into the others’. It sunk down on the bulletin and around the wooden frame of the board as well. There were comments and hearts drawn all around their polaroid picture.

“Wait,” Keith squawked. “That’s not the picture we took...”

No. Their original picture was pinned beneath a different one. A newer one was taken in the middle of the party. Keith gawked in awe and shame as the photo showed a _very_ flushed prince being bridal carried by his strong and equally flushed paladin. Shiro’s eyes were dark despite the glow on his cheeks and forehead reflected by the stylized camera. Keith didn’t realize just how much of an impact he had on Shiro. Seeing it from this perspective —it made Keith wonder what exactly his friends saw every time they gazed at each other in the past.

Fuck. Were they really that oblivious?

“We’re framing this,” Romelle said with a smirk, eyes finally leaving her plate to look up at the board in Matt’s hand.  

“No. No we are not.”  

“Aw, c’mon Shiro. Don’t be like that. You guys are cute.”

“I’m— we’re not _framing_ that board!”

“But you won by a landslide,” Allura chipped in. Keith and his friends watched Shiro and his roommates all stand at the same time.  

It was a square off between Shiro and the other side of the table. While Allura debated with Shiro why they absolutely needed to keep the board, Romelle suddenly screamed _Run!_ and flagged Matt towards the stairs while flinging herself onto Shiro, who immediately chased after him without breaking stride. Allura and Romelle did their best to slow down Shiro, who moved like a rugby player against the tackles as he chased Matt. The kitchen was sudden chaos followed by complete silence.

Keith couldn’t suppress his grin, grateful he got to see another side of Shiro that morning. Shy and playful with Keith, yet equal parts stunned and snippy with his roommates in such a short amount of time was a sight to behold. Keith wondered if Shiro always interacted with his friends this way, or if it was a one-off situation that had him chasing all three up the stairs while yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Surprised your man isn’t hungover,” Lance sighed. “Just knowing he’s running and screaming like that is making my migraine come back.”

Keith huffed and joined his friends at the table, finally sinking into a seat and relaxing his tense muscles. The worst of the conversation was over.  

“Thanks for inviting me Pidge. This was fun —for the most part.”

Pidge smiled and nodded. “Bet or no bet, at the end of the day we just wanted to see you happy.”

Keith’s heart squeezed at the statement.  

“Yeah well... yeah... Thanks,” Keith shrugged. He didn’t know what else to say. He was never good with talking about his feelings. To him, actions spoke louder than words. “I guess I owe you guys a drink for dealing with me and my... obliviousness.”

“That’s an eloquent way of calling yourself blind,” Lance huffed.

“Says the guy who thought they were already together,” Hunk responded.

“Have you _seen_ them? Can you blame me for thinking they were past the flirting stage?”

"Just admit you were _blind,”_ Keith teased.

Keith’s smirk turned soft as the conversation died down and eventually changed to something else entirely. Everyone agreed to help clean the house after been given a safe space to eat and sleep, and got to work on different sections of the first floor.  

The home owners eventually joined the others and partnered up to clean the worst of the mess. Keith and Shiro only kissed a handful of times, much to their friends' chagrin.

“This is what you all asked for,” Keith shrugged when Shiro hugged him from behind and smooched his neck.

“We didn’t account for PDA,” Matt whispered to his sister in horror.

“There’s a _lot_ you didn’t account for,” Shiro smirked. Though Matt had successfully convinced Shiro to keep the bulletin board, Keith promised Shiro they’d exact revenge somehow; and the two just pinpointed the way.

Keith laughed at Matt, and twisted around to kiss Shiro in return, pleased at how easily Shiro received his affections.

After everything Shiro had done for him, it was nice being able to give back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was also nice hearing everyone groan in disgust.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :')
> 
> This fic was fun to write. Hopefully I'll get back into the swing of posting more fics in the near future~  
> If you're shy with commenting here, feel free to chat with me on twitter @Kroligane


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